


i want to sit under my own vine

by lazyfish



Series: Genuary 2021 [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28570488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: Mack wants to rest, and Coulson has some advice.
Relationships: Phil Coulson & Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie
Series: Genuary 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087955
Comments: 16
Kudos: 20





	i want to sit under my own vine

Mack wants to breathe.

He can’t, of course. The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t get time to breathe, doesn’t get time to mourn, doesn’t get time to do anything except for move forward. He has to, because he has people who are counting on him.

(Some might say the time he had in the 1980s was his time to breathe, to mourn, but it _wasn’t_. He didn’t get to do anything but hate himself. And maybe that’s his own fault, but maybe it’s not. Maybe he never should’ve been put in the position where he had to fling his own parents out of a moving airplane.

No, not his parents. Strangers with his parents’ faces.)

The day after they return, Mack goes into the office, sits down at his desk, and starts his work.

Time travel is strange and brilliant, because even though it’s been years since Mack has done this work, for everyone else it’s only been a matter of days. Like he was gone for the weekend, not any longer.

(It would be nice if the Director got to take weekends, but considering he barely gets time to sleep at night, forty-eight uninterrupted hours may be pushing it.)

Even though it’s been a few years, Mack dives back in headfirst. He doesn’t have time to hesitate or second-guess himself. This was never a job he asked for, never a job he wanted, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do it to the best of his abilities, and his best doesn’t involve hesitation. Elena may tease him for being slow and steady, but slow and steady is better than stopping because he outran his brain. 

When a knock comes at the door, Mack looks up expecting to see Elena or maybe Daisy cajoling him to remember to eat. Instead he finds Coulson staring back at him. 

Not Coulson, exactly, but they’ve unanimously decided to refer to the newest iteration of Coulson as himself. He doesn’t seem to mind, and Mack supposes his opinion is the only one that matters.

“How can I help you?” Mack asks. He’s anticipated this; tomorrow he’ll probably have Fitz and Simmons’s resignation letters sitting on his desk, and Kora’s application to join S.H.I.E.L.D. as well. He has to figure out what to do with Sousa, too, and Coulson is just another question mark on his to-do list.

Their team is splitting up, and there’s nothing Mack can do but let them go where they want. As their friend he wants to ask them to stay, but as their Director there’s not a damn thing he can do except watch as they walk away. 

It won’t be forever. Mack knows that it won’t be forever, but it hurts all the same.

“I don’t think I’m on your roster,” Coulson says, walking into the room.

“And you don’t want to be.” It’s not a question; Mack knows that this version of Coulson isn’t interested in working for S.H.I.E.L.D. He has his own existential crisis to work through, and being an agent doesn’t allow for much time for emotional processing.

“No,” Coulson agrees. He ambles over to Mack’s desk, picks up one of the knick-knacks Mack has sitting on it and inspecting it curiously. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” he comments.

“If you wanted it, you could have it back,” Mack offers. He knows it isn’t what Coulson wants, but being Director isn’t what Mack wants, either. He had only done it because no one else wanted to and he didn't have it in him to let S.H.I.E.L.D. die with a whimper. As soon as someone else is ready, Mack will gladly pass on the mantle.

Coulson chuckles drily, setting the knick-knack down and then dropping into the chair opposite Mack’s desk. “I don’t want it.”

“I know.” Mack sighs. “What do you want, Coulson?”

“Call me Phil. I think you’ve earned it.” Coulson smiles, the wry twist of his lips that Mack could never parse correctly. Coulson the man had always been a mystery to him, and apparently Coulson the robot is determined to keep up the record. At least this version of Coulson isn’t homicidal. That was a nice change of pace.

“What do you want, Phil?” Mack amends. 

“I want to see the world,” Phil says quietly. “I want to rest.”

_Don’t we all?_

“I can get a Quinjet to drop you off wherever in the world you’d like, but I can’t run a taxi service,” Mack says drily. S.H.I.E.L.D. is recovering from the blow after blow they’ve taken in the past few years, but their belt still has to be tight for a little while longer. As much as he would love to give Coulson the freedom to take a jet wherever he wants, whenever he wants, Mack can’t. It isn’t feasible.

“You’re good at this,” Phil says after a long pause. “Being Director.”

Mack can’t hold back his disbelieving chuckle. “I’m really not.” Mack feels like all he has is mess after mess and a handful of agents traumatized beyond belief. That’s before he even touches his own feelings.

“You are,” Phil insists. “They respect you.”

“People respect bad men all the time.” Respect, fear, _whatever_ \- the Malicks had commanded an army of loyal followers, and they weren’t good men. The only thing keeping Mack tethered is the knowledge this is not power he wanted or asked for. If he didn’t want it, it couldn’t corrupt him. At least, that’s what Mack tells himself to sleep at night.

“I suppose they do.” Phil leans back in his chair, and Mack has a feeling he means for this to be a longer conversation.

Fine. He’ll bite.

“I don’t want this, Phil.”

“I know you don’t.” Coulson’s brow furrows the slightest bit, his head tilts, and he peers at Mack with watery blue eyes. He actually looks sorry, which is more than Mack expected. “But I -”

“Want to rest,” Mack finishes. “I know.” And Coulson deserves to rest, after all the shit he’s been through. He probably deserves it the most out of all of them, with as many times as he’s sacrificed his life for S.H.I.E.L.D. 

Mack doesn’t need to rest yet. He just needs to _breathe_ and he doesn’t know how he can do that anymore. 

“You surprised me,” Coulson says eventually. “I thought you were going to change things more than you did.”

“You tried your best,” Mack says. “I didn’t want to erase all that.” For all the disagreements Mack and Coulson have had over the years, Mack knows the older man just wanted what was best for S.H.I.E.L.D. He wasn’t - isn’t - going to rip that apart just for the sake of his own ego, not when most of it was working.

“I appreciate that.” Coulson levels his gaze at Mack again, searching. For what, Mack doesn’t know. “Why haven’t you tried to get them back, Mack?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mack breaks their staring contest first, looking down at his desk, still covered in papers. Too many papers, too much diplomacy, too much for him to figure out. 

“You do.” Coulson’s voice has dropped down to a whisper. “It feels selfish, but… every Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. has done selfish things before.”

_I want to be better than you were._

“Maybe when everything is more stable,” Mack says instead. “There’s just a lot to do.”

“There’s always a lot to do,” Coulson says, sympathy etched into the lines of his face when Mack looks up again. “It’s okay for you to rest sometimes, too.”

Silence stretches on, Mack’s breathing the only sound in the room. Robots don’t need to breathe; Coulson’s chest still rises and falls, but it’s more muscle memory than because he needs to. He blinks, too, even though his eyes don’t dry out.

Mack wonders if Coulson can cry.

“How did you do it?” Mack’s voice cracks. He had watched Coulson’s recordings hundreds of times, maybe thousands, but it’s different having the man back, getting to ask every question he wants to know the answer to. “I’m trying but…”

“You’re going to make mistakes.” Coulson’s voice is gentle; Mack has only ever heard him talk to Daisy this way, soft and paternal. “I made plenty of them. But if you’re doing your best, history will look back on you kindly.”

“I’m not sure that’s true,” Mack says. “We - we made Real S.H.I.E.L.D. because we looked at Fury’s best and thought it wasn’t good enough. What if -?”

 _What if my best isn’t enough?_ He’s already proven he can make bad decisions, his agents will disagree with him, he will get things _wrong_. If he’s honest, Mack isn’t sure how Coulson is still so sure Mack is the right man for the job. 

“You can’t do any better than your best. And your best will be better than mine. It already is.” 

Mack doesn’t know if he agrees with that.

“You’re doing everything you should be doing,” Coulson continues. “Everything I would’ve done, at least, and then some.” Coulson’s voice has resumed its normal cadence, none of the sympathetic lilt to it anymore. Oddly, it’s easier to listen to him when he’s not trying to be empathetic. “Even if I did want to be Director again, I wouldn’t take it from you, Mack. It’s better that we can move forward. Someday you’ll find someone whose best is even better than yours, and it’s not your job to feel guilty then because your best isn’t as good as theirs. It’s your job to step back and let them take the lead.”

Mack already knows who _someone_ will be. He thinks Coulson does, too.

But she needs to rest, too. She needs to breathe.

“That’s how we move forward,” Coulson says simply. “We give the people who are better than us the space to be better than us. We let them grow. We remind them that they _are_ better, even when they don’t think they are.”

Mack takes a calming breath and meets Coulson’s eyes again. “I think I understand.”

“Good.” Coulson crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t suppose you found the bottle of Haig I hid, did you?”

Mack finally, _finally_ cracks a smile. “I did.”

“Have a drink with me,” Coulson says. “One Director to another.”

Mack agrees, and pours two drinks.

They toast the empty air for all the people they’ve lost. They toast the empty air for the people who aren’t lost yet and will be found again. 

They toast the empty air for the people who are still there, waiting for Mack to lead them into the future.


End file.
